He's little fingers are of the great machine
that clockwork Emc kinda thing
he writes what he's saying
his words not words, their hymns
and the war of nutrition now begins
Some of the words of God kept him sane
yet in the mirror they had the same name
You who listen I want you to understand
that the good dwell in every land
I am not a seeker of truth for I am
I have seen the blood on distant sands
so close to death he became my friend
I knew of all he told me was the truth
and the hope of man was so aloof
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 7:03 AM UTC
He's little fingers are of the great machine
that clockwork Emc kinda thing
he writes what he's saying
his words not words, their hymns
and the war of nutrition now begins
Some of the words of God kept him sane
yet in the mirror they had the same name
You who listen I want you to understand
that the good dwell in every land
I am not a seeker of truth for I am
I have seen the blood on distant sands
so close to death he became my friend
I knew of all he told me was the truth
and the hope of man was so aloof
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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